


Goodbye, Goodbye

by Symmet



Series: New Wounds [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Dean is dead, Radical Face, Sam is sad, Song Inspired, lyrics, per usual, sad is sad, variations thereupon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-01
Updated: 2014-07-01
Packaged: 2018-02-07 00:44:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 989
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1878609
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Symmet/pseuds/Symmet
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Inspired by the song of the same name by Radical Face</p>
            </blockquote>





	Goodbye, Goodbye

Lyrics used belong to the song, _**All is Well (Goodbye, Goodbye)**_ by Radical Face, no copyright infringement intended.

  
_It's hard to keep the rainclouds out_   
_When the windows never close_   
_The house feels like a graveyard now_   
_Like the floorboards hide the bones_   


Sam rarely went to visit Bobby after Dean died. When he did, it was short, but never sweet, bitter in that sad way that pain and rage collide, melded together by a gap, a missing piece. And after he had collected what he had needed - _**never** , he never got what he needed because he needed **Dean** , he needed Dean back_ \- he left, like a pilgrim fleeing prosecution he fled, from the memories that soaked these walls like gasoline soaked old, dry bones, unable to burn it, just as he had been unable to burn Dean's body.

And everywhere he looked in that house were Dean's bones, the places he had touched and Sam was afraid that if he touched them they would crumble and cease to be, wither and wilt and die, just as Dean had, in his arms, _in his **arms**_. So he never touched it, wanted to leave before he could watch it leave him, too.

Because if he couldn't get Dean back, there was always a bitch he had plans on killing.

  
_And I have lost your face_   
_It slips between my fingers now_   
_And all the world is gray_   
_As though you took the colors with you_   
_When you went and passed away_   


And Bobby wanted to fight to keep Sam, the Sam that had been when Dean was alive, the Sam that could catch the good in a failing world, like finding the perfect spot for a puzzle piece, but he was gone, and Bobby could not fight for what had been replaced by something new.

And so Bobby had to cope by helping Sam with hunting, and only hunting, and never would Sam take a break, because this Sam did not have Dean to ask him to go to the bar for some drinks, and this Sam did not have Dean to tell him to get some sleep and finish the damn research in the morning, and this Sam was empty and busy and made asking him for recreational time seem like a sin. And Sam rarely called and rarely spoke to Bobby, because even if Bobby didn't know it, Sam had already lived through this and he could still remember the desperation that had taken the form of a splintered stake which had wound itself into Bobby's flesh, a mangled prayer that drank Bobby's blood as it had Sam's wretchedness. And even though that had all been an illusion of the Trickster, it felt as real as any dream sometimes feels, surreal and on the edge of one's mind.

And so Bobby thought Sam was lost with Dean, and Sam thought that everything was lost with Dean, and so it went on.

  
 _I remember how the bedroom looked_  
 _When you left to see your lord_  
 _The sheets were a mess_  
 _And your clothes were all wrecked_  
 _In a pile by the door_

  
And when Sam did have to sleep, because for all the pain it had been caused, he still had a soul, unlike his brother, who had sold it on Sam's conscience, traded his own pain so that Sam may experience it later, he dreamed of Dean dying.

He relived it constantly, except sometimes, he could see the hounds, and sometimes he could see what Lilith truly was, underneath, but the worst, the worst, was watching Dean die, because he could also see what Dean was, and he knew.

Dean didn't deserve to die. But when he looked down at himself, covered in his brother's blood, he didn't see anything worth saving.

And he didn't know it, but it was the demon's blood making him relive the nightmares, and it was the demon's blood that filtered through his eyes until he saw the truth, the uglier truths, and all that he expected to see, and it woke him up in the middle of the night, hungry and aching and broken.

  
 _And though my blood runs the same as it did before_  
 _Only difference is now I barely feel it anymore  
_

And Sam was numb, and if Gabriel had seen, had seen that trying to teach Sam had only made the lesson so much worse because Sam fell prey to Ruby's manipulation with so much more ease, so quick to blur the lines of right and wrong, to leave behind the man of faith for the one who lost everything for nothing, he might have regretted watching the pure soul lapse into darkness.

  
_So I collected all our plans and crimes_   
_And set them all alight_   
_The only thing that bound me to this place_   
_You took with you when you died_   
_So goodbye, goodbye_   


And when, one day, Ruby isn't quite quick enough to pull Sam away from the teetering edge of death and life, sin and virtue that he has begun to walk, when something dies in his arms but not before it has pushed it's claws into his belly and it's too late, he doesn't care, because if he drinks demon blood and ends up in Hell, at least he can see Dean again. And Ruby is angry and worried as only she can be, and he's laughing, but almost not hysterically, and she's telling him not to die, dammit, Winchester! And he doesn't care, and he shoves the demon blade into her stomach because even if she doesn't seem as evil as all the other demons, she's still evil, and at least he can stop her from hurting someone again, and he's crying softly, laughing, _"Goodbye, goodbye,"_ into her hair, again and again, because Ruby is dead and there is just another body in his arms, and he's sorry there are so many of them.


End file.
